


Kiss

by mikkimouse



Series: Tumblr Fics [60]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 20:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9843086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkimouse/pseuds/mikkimouse
Summary: For this prompt: "I want to see something with their first kiss."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Tumblr [here](https://mad-madam-m.tumblr.com/post/131352332970/i-want-to-see-something-with-their-first-kiss).

It’s like every other time they’ve patched each other up after a fight, except it’s not.   


Stiles sits on the toilet, watches Derek move mechanically around the bathroom, taking out the alcohol and the bandages, lips pressed into a thin line and dark brows drawn so close together it’s a wonder they haven’t merged.   


He knows what’s coming, and he doesn’t want to hear it. He’s _tired_ , so fucking tired, and everything hurts.

When Derek finally opens his mouth, Stiles says, “Don’t.”   


Derek frowns, pauses in the middle of dabbing alcohol onto a cotton ball. “What?”   


“You’ve got your lecture face on.” Stiles sighs. “’Stiles, don’t antagonize the witch. Stiles, don’t try to protect me. Stiles, don’t mouth off to the dangerous hunters who want to torture information out of you. Stiles, don’t jump in front of a pissed-off wendigo and try to act as bait.’ And just…don’t, okay?”

Derek is quiet for a moment, and then he kneels in front of Stiles and starts dabbing the rubbing alcohol on his arms. Today was a lucky day, Stiles thinks. Most of his injuries can be fixed with some alcohol, antibiotic ointment, bandages, and sleep.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Derek says softly.   


“Okay, then–”   


“I was going to say I hate it when you get hurt.” Derek closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I don’t want you to stay behind, because we’re stronger with you, because you see things we don’t and make connections we don’t, but…that means seeing you get hurt and I hate that.”   


Stiles can’t believe his ears. Derek’s looking at his injuries, not his face, but it doesn’t change the truth of the words, doesn’t change how they hang heavy in the quiet of the bathroom. It makes his heart beat faster, makes his skin prickle where Derek holds it, steadily cleaning his injuries.   


“Good thing I’ve got you to patch me up, then,” he says, trying for lightness, but the words are anything but.   


Derek gently squeezes his arm. “You always have.”

The quiet words twist themselves into Stiles’s heart, the first acknowledgement of this _…_ whatever this is that’s been building between them for the past four years now.  


Derek raises his eyes then, somber and vulnerable and _hopeful_ at the same time, and it cracks open something in Stiles. It feels natural to lean forward and press his lips to Derek’s, soft and chaste, just enough to say _thank you_ and a little bit more.   


He sits back, too tired and sore to be afraid of rejection. “Was that…okay?”   


Derek goes back to cleaning his arms, wraps up the worst of the injuries. “Yes,” he says, soft enough Stiles almost doesn’t hear it. “More than okay.”  


Stiles smiles and leans back against the wall, lets Derek finish taking care of him. “Okay.”

Tomorrow they will talk about what they want, talk about what it means. But tonight…

Tonight this is okay.  



End file.
